Night Angel
by XxFireStormxX
Summary: Vincent accidentally meets an old friend, who turns out to be much more than he bargained for. VinXOC.


**Unexpected Encounter**

I sighed, gazing over the treetops from a cliff edge. I shuffled the black leather wings on my back, each wing at least as long as I was tall. A light breeze blew through my long hair. The muscles throughout my body coiled and released as I launched off the edge, beating my wings to gain speed and altitude. The leaves on the tops of close trees fluttered in the downwash of my flight. I glided over a few bare patches in the forest, my form a mere silhouette against the moonlit sky.

I narrowed my eyes at movement on the ground below. It stopped as I slowed a little. A small flash and loud crack sounded below, before pain tore through my shoulder. I staggered midflight. My wings disappeared in a shadowy aura, and I fell. Branches snapped as I tumbled through the treetops, and hit the ground with a heavy thud. I rolled to a stop in the grass. Groaning, I tried to get up from lying on my stomach, but the sharp burning in my shoulder prevented movement. I raised my head a bit to look around, gritting my teeth to stop from screaming. A tall figure moved through the forest towards me, each long stride swiftly bringing it closer. I let my head fall into the grass between my outstretched arms, and watched helplessly. My breathing came in heavy gasps.

The figure was a man, dressed in mostly black, with metal plated boots, a long, tattered cloak, and a clawed gauntlet on his arm. He knelt beside me. I stared at his face. His pale skin was framed by wind torn black hair, held back by a deep crimson headband. His neck and mouth was covered by the cloak collar, of which was the same color as the headband. The man's eyes glittered ruby as he blinked, examining me. I curled my fingers into the soft grass and dirt, trying to crawl away. The pain in my shoulder burned away all the feeling in my right arm.

He reached out to touch me. I weakly struck at him, the blow catching his cheek. He grunted and flinched back, but didn't take long to regain his bearings. He caught and pinned my uninjured arm's wrist to the ground with his gauntleted hand, his knee pressed firmly to my back, and other hand closed around my neck. I couldn't move under his heavy strength. The sudden loss of adrenaline accentuated the blood lost out of my shoulder. My heart fluttered as I fought for consciousness, afraid of what might happen to me if I passed out. I struggled with no avail, against him and myself, falling into the dark. I lost the energy to move, and my head sunk back down into the grass.

* * *

My eyes opened to an intricately carved stone roof, the same one I had so often slept under. The grey was highlighted and shadowed by a fire. Was that all a dream? Had I been here the whole time? The soreness of my right shoulder answered all those questions. I looked over to my injury. It was wrapped with bandages that came around my chest, keeping a thick pad pressed to the wound. My arm had been bound to my side, holding it in place. Several small bloodstains came through the white wrap, along with a large dark bruise where I landed.

I looked around. A metal bowl filled with steaming water was placed on a stone platform beside me, an off white rag half submerged in it. My upper body was covered by a thin, nearly translucent material. With some effort I moved my good arm and raised the covering off myself, to find that I was shirtless underneath. A small panic rose as I fidgeted with the bandage, lifting the edge. I breathed a sigh of relief when I caught the creamy color of my breast band against my pale skin tone, giving me a small sense of security.

I hauled myself up into a sitting position. The cloaked man stood in the doorway at the top of the stairs, facing away from me. I moved quickly to tie the covering around myself before he noticed I was awake. I brought one long end over my bandaged shoulder, keeping it in place with my chin while I pulled the other end under my arm. I held onto an end with my teeth and twisted them together in a knot above the bandage pad. I checked to see if he had moved. He was turning around. I froze when he spotted me. I stared at him, wide eyed, and he stared back. I noticed the handgun in the holster strapped to his right thigh, and I was unarmed. He began to come towards me. With one final tug I tightened the knot, slid off the stone table I was on, and ran.

I pushed through a heavy wooden door, leading down a rounded staircase to a large, circular room. Tree roots broke through the stone walls, creating arches. A round pool of water illuminated the room with the blue glow of a crystal above it. The stone floor was also carved with a swirling pattern. I hid behind a large peice of stone wall that had been pushed out by tree roots, away from the entrance. The mossy stone floor muffled my footsteps. I slowed my breathing, and remembered the hunting knife I carried in my boot.

He slowly came down the last few steps, looking around. I crouched slightly, making myself smaller, quietly drawing the knife. Even though I was sure white wasn't the most effective camouflage right now. I watched him walk closer to the center of the room, his footsteps silent, other than the slight clink of metal. He looked down into the pool, his shoulders lowering into a sigh. He was roughly six feet tall and quite lean.

"You may stop hiding. I did not mean to hurt you." his voice was low and velvety, breaking the long silence, but did not seem to be directed to one area. Hopefully meaning he didn't quite know where I was.

I remained in a crouching position, doing my best to sneak up behind him. He heard me coming, but before he could turn around I stood straight up and looped my arm around his neck, the razor edge of my blade only a hair's breadth away from his throat.

"Who are you?" I asked in a threateningly quiet tone. I could see the reflection of his ruby eyes watching me on the cool steel.

Too quickly for my dulled reflexes, he pushed the knife away from himself and spun around, catching the hilt in his gloved right hand, and curled his gauntlet's clawed fingers around my own throat. He pushed me up against the wall.

"Vincent Valentine," he growled, squeezing my throat a bit tighter. I hissed as the sharp fingertips dug into my skin, making it harder to breathe. He glared at me in silent menace, pressing my unbound arm to the wall as well.

I took a moment to examine his face, then forced out a single chuckle.

"Has you're aim improved at all, Vinnie?" I smiled a little at the irony of how I used to tease him when we were younger.

Vincent cast me a quizzical look, never breaking my eye contact. After a few seconds, I felt the gauntlet around my throat loosen.

"You're alive," he whispered unbelievingly.

I laughed quietly, "What gave it away?"

"They… They told us you were dead…" he backed away, allowing me to move. I slid the knife back into my boot.

"Jacqueline Crescent."

I gave him a quick nod. It had been a long time since I heard my own name.


End file.
